English poetry

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8 Count

from my bed
I watch
3 birds
On a telephone
Wire.
One flies
Off.
Then
Another.
One is left,
Then
It too
Is gone.
My typewriter is
Tombstone
Still.
And I am
Reduced to bird
Watching.
Just thought I’d
Let you
Know,
Fucker.


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Poem 8 Count - Charles Bukowski
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